Arms
by likecominghome
Summary: Lydia had a bad day, but luckily Stiles is always the perfect cure.


_You put your arms around me and I'm home. _

The gray skies and threatening rainstorm perfectly reflect her mood.

She's having one of those days: the kind where everything is going wrong and she feels as though the entire world is rooting for her to fail.

The day began late because she completely forgot to charge her phone during the night, resulting in no alarm to wake her up. So she skips breakfast entirely and does her makeup at red lights on her way into work. This, of course, puts her life in danger and results in nearly three accidents.

The work day had dragged on at an unusually slow pace. Generally, she adored her job at the university, teaching advanced differential equations to intellectually stimulated students, but on this particular day, they only seemed to get on her nerves. She found their questions irritating beyond belief and by the time she was pulling out of the university parking lot after work, she was almost entirely certain that if someone even so much looked in her direction, she would successfully bite their head off.

Thus, as she pulls into the parking garage, locks her car, and proceeds to trudge up the five flights of stairs to the tiny apartment she shares with her boyfriend, she's grumbling unpleasant curses under her breath. She shoves the key into the lock with more force than is necessary, pushing the door open roughly and causing it to slam against the wall.

Rolling her eyes, she kicks it closed as she drops her bag to the floor and shrugs her coat from her shoulders. The coat is tossed over the couch to her front before she wanders towards the kitchen in an attempt to find the source of the heavenly smell currently wafting through the apartment.

Stiles is standing at the counter, his back turned to her as he stirs something in a pot on the stove.

"You're home early," she comments as she kicks off her shoes and slides into the barstool at the counter across from him.

He doesn't turn around as he responds. "Yeah, the sergeant let me out early. Not much crime in town today."

She nods, drumming her fingers on the countertop.

Stiles is a detective down at the police station, which means she's spent many nights lying awake, wondering if he was going to come back in one piece. Thus far, not a single bullet had touched him.

"You're later than usual, though," he finally turns from the stove. Grabbing the open bottle of wine beside him, he selects a wine glass from the cabinet to his left before slowly pouring a glass. Taking a step forward, he slides the glass in front of her smiles sweetly. "Good day?"

She parts her lips to complain, but finds that weight on her mind lifted just slightly when he leans across the counter and presses his lips to her forehead. Relishing in the feel of his mouth on her skin, she allows her eyes to flutter closed and sighs in contentment.

"Not exactly," she murmurs as her eyes slowly open.

Furrowing his brow and turning the corners of his lips downwards in concern, he holds up a finger to indicate he'll hear her complaints in a moment. Quickly stepping back towards the stove, he shuts it off and covers the pan full of meat sauce in an effort to insulate it before coming to lean against the counter to her front, his forearms resting on the countertop.

"What happened?" he asks.

"It's nothing, really," she sighs. "I'm most likely just being melodramatic."

"Lydia…" he pauses, shooting her a stern glance. "Come on. Spit it out."

She sighs heavily once more, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before Stiles coaxed the truth out of her. He was frighteningly perceptive when it came to her emotions and those large brown eyes had the irritatingly adept ability to send her willpower into a crumbling mess.

Taking a gulp of wine, she chokes down the bitter liquid before speaking. "I got called in to talk to the head of the department this afternoon."

"Oh?" Stiles quirks an eyebrow. "And it wasn't good?"

Her eyes widen. "I still have a job!"

"That's good to know," he lets out a breathy laugh, his expression softening.

"He just told me that I'm not getting promoted to senior lecturer."

"What?" he stands up straight. "Why the hell not? Your students absolutely adore you and your research has garnered more attention and praise than any other person at that university. What could possibly be his reason for not promoting you?"

"He's already given the position to Thomas Barrows," she replies bitterly, taking another sip of wine.

Stiles blinks at her, utterly dumbfounded. "Thomas Barrows? That glorified algebra teacher? The guy used to cheat off me in our World History class in high school."

"Ah, sexism," Lydia replies as she brings the wine glass to her lips once more. Her responses were oddly calm, seeing as in reality, while her boss was speaking, she was imagining various ways in which to decapitate him and hide the body so no one would notice.

"I'm sorry, baby," Stiles says softly. Walking around the counter, he comes up behind her, wrapping an arm across her chest, his fingers scratching her shoulder lightly as his lips dip to her neck. "You definitely deserve that position. If you want to look for a job elsewhere, I completely understand."

"I appreciate that," she smiles, leaning her head against his bicep as he rests his chin on her shoulder. "But I love my job. And I can handle my misogynistic boss. And to be entirely honest, the titles don't mean that much to me anyway."

She wiggles free of his grasp and he takes a step back to allow her to slide off the barstool and face him. Turning the corners of her lips upwards into a smile, she shrugs casually. "You win some, you lose some, I guess."

"Are you alright?" he asks, his tone sympathetic. He reaches out his palms to rub them soothingly up and down her arms.

"I will be," she says softly. "Just because I didn't necessarily want the job doesn't mean being passed over for it doesn't hurt."

"I know," he whispers, "If it makes you feel any better, you're always my number one."

She rolls her eyes at the sappiness of his words, but when he flattens his palms against her back and pulls her into an embrace, she can't help but sink into his chest. Wrapping her arms around him, she closes her eyes as he rests his chin on top of her head.

As he holds her close, she feels the entire weight of the day slowly slip away. The anger and frustration and bitterness disappears and all she can think about is how, after all this time, he still has the incredible ability to make her forget everything else.

This is her favorite place to be. She could travel the entire earth, but she knows that at the end of it all, his arms are her home.

He leans back, but keeps her close. "What do you say we eat this delicious dinner I made and then I'll take you out for dessert?"

Smiling softly, she leans forward and presses her lips to his, inhaling deeply to allow his soothing scent combined with the softness of his lips relax her muscles and warm her body.

"Sounds perfect," she whispers as she pulls away.

* * *

Hi! So I plan on doing a lot of song inspired Stydia drabbles and oneshots. If you have any requests or anything, you can message me on here or on my tumblr: stilesxlydialove . tumblr . com


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